


the violent voices, loud and deafening

by lifewasradical



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Driving, Existential Angst, First Kiss, Internal Conflict, Love Confessions, M/M, okay here we go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifewasradical/pseuds/lifewasradical
Summary: Michael knows he’s a chronic overthinker, thoughts always plaguing his mind even when he begs them to quiet down. He’s started categorizing his thoughts into different groups, depending on how loud the voices are screaming and what he can hear them saying.  The thoughts spiral a lot, starting off as little seeds planted by his insecurities, blooming up into something big, terrifying, all encompassing.Or, Michael can't get out of his own head, but at least he has Calum.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	the violent voices, loud and deafening

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have that much to say about this fic other than welcome to my brain lately. Try not to perceive me too hard, yeah? 
> 
> Special thanks to everyone who shared thoughts on the playlist names: Peyton, Heath, Bella, Emily, TL (BIGGG shoutout to TL because your brain just. It was perfect for these vibes). 
> 
> And extra shoutout to Emily as always for just existing and listening to me talk about this and reading it through and for looping Drive with me for like 3 1/2 hours. 
> 
> Title from Drive by Ashton, unsurprisingly.

Michael knows he’s a chronic overthinker, thoughts always plaguing his mind even when he begs them to quiet down. He’s started categorizing his thoughts into different groups, depending on how loud the voices are screaming and what he can hear them saying. The thoughts spiral a lot, starting off as little seeds planted by his insecurities, blooming up into something big, terrifying, all encompassing. 

On bad days, the little whispers of self-doubt get so intense that he can’t even begin to fathom how to get them to go away, how to push the thoughts out of his head long enough to hear himself inhale and exhale. Those days are spent in bed, duvet pulled high and pressed against his ears, blocking out every noise around him, hoping for something to hush the voices. 

Sometimes the voices repeat a mantra of nothing, leaving him with nothing to say in return. He can’t think of a single thing, mind so incredibly numb that no words come to mind, as if he never learned to speak at all. His head pounds, full to the brim, but with nothing of substance. He stares off into the distance, losing hours of time to empty gazes at the blank walls ahead of him, no music or background noise to blame the wasted time on. 

Other times, the voices are clearly screaming to run away, to get the fuck out of here and never look back again. To get in the car and drive, out as far away as possible with no intentions of turning around. Those voices tell him he needs to move, needs to pack up all his belongings and find a new place to exist, somewhere that no one knows who he is and he can start fresh. 

Those days are often spent walking in the forest, following a trail (or not) and getting lost in the wilderness until nightfall, until the terror of not making it out before it gets too dark scares Michael into running home, just enough adrenaline to soothe his wandering heart. 

Sometimes, the voices in Michael’s head get a little too loud. The screams echo off the sides of his brain, bouncing from side to side across the empty space. He tries to quiet them down, drown them with music, with talking, with throwing things at all the wall to distract from all the noise. It’s not like he can hear what they’re saying anyways, just loud yells conflicting with one another. He wishes he could isolate just one, one fucking voice so he could figure out what it wants and make it shut up long enough for him to get through the rest of the voices with the same process. 

Today is one of the days where the screaming is too loud, all encompassing. He can’t make out a single thing any of them are saying, just a reminder that he’s fucked up, that he’s broken and there's nothing that he can do to fix the noise. He’s tried therapy, meds, anything under the sun to figure out how to live a normal life, whatever that means, but he can’t seem to figure out anything to cure the ache. 

Anything but Calum.

Calum always knows exactly what Michael needs, even when he can’t figure out what emotion his thoughts are trying to convey. Calum knows Michael inside and out, well enough to differentiate between the loud days, the quiet ones, the ones where Michael is numb. 

So it’s almost as if Calum can read his mind, can peer right into his eyes and see the turmoil flooding every thought, the constant waves pressing against his temples from the inside out when he asks “Should we go for a drive?” body relaxed against the fabric of his couch. 

Michael had taken up residency on Calum’s couch sometime earlier in the day, before the voices had started to yell, drowning out Calum’s voice. Michael is lucky that he could even hear Calum ask the question over the rushing in his brain, loud enough to block out most noises. Michael thinks he must have been quiet for a few beats too long, enough time for Calum to realize that something was wrong, that Michael wasn’t fully paying attention to the present world. 

“I’ll drive,” Calum offers, picking up his keys and heading to the front door, not giving Michael the option of even declining the offer. Calum knows Michael better than he knows himself, years of living in each other’s pockets setting the foundation for reading each other’s thoughts. The car serves as a safe haven, the one place where Michael can completely relax and forget about everything that exists outside his bubble. 

Michael somehow gets his body in the car, buckled into Calum’s passenger seat with the seat warmer on. He missed when Calum grabbed a blanket and a water, both handed to Michael as Calum got into the driver’s seat. Michael feels one of the voices in his mind quiet down as he sips at the water, immediately feeling just the smallest bit better. The voices are still loud, he still can’t figure out what they’re saying, but something is quieted by either the act of love or Michael’s hydration. 

Calum backs them out of the driveway, starting down the road. Michael has no clue where they’re going, content to just drive as far as they’re able to, until he can figure out how to remove some of the chaos in his head. He recognizes some of the turns Calum is making, heading in the direction of their favorite winding roads, into the middle of nowhere. 

The expanse of pavement ahead of them seems endless, melding with the skyline to create a sea of black laced with little specks of light. Michael watches the distant lights flicker, each passing house a tiny shard of light as Calum speeds down the road. He loses himself in the trees, each one whipping past him before he’s able to collect any details. They’re alone on the road, headlights shining into the darkness. 

“What do you want to listen to?” Calum finally asks after a bit too long of silence. Somehow Michael didn’t even realize that they didn’t have any music playing. He glances at the clock, somehow missing about twenty minutes of time. He wants to be shocked that he lost that much time, but he knows he’s done worse before. This time, he’s thankful that he isn’t the one driving, knowing the consequences of dissociating while operating heavy machinery.

Michael shrugs, unable to determine what music would even fit his mood right now. He wants to say something loud, bass thumping enough to mirror some of the noises in his head. At the same time, he wants something soft, melodies floating in the air to lessen the burden, maybe enough to remove the tension. Instead, he stays quiet, letting his hands sit on his lap. 

He hears Calum sigh and for a moment Michael is overwhelmed by the thought that he’s a burden, that he can’t handle himself and he’s dragging Calum into the abyss with him. He wants to ask Calum to turn around, tell him that this is a mistake and he’s sorry for bringing him down too. Instead, Calum fiddles with his phone, quickly, trying not to take his eyes off the phone. 

Eventually he relents, handing the device to Michael, “Can you go find the playlist titled  _ a chest full of diamonds _ ?” Michael shrugs, scrolling through Calum’s playlists to find the one in question. When he does, he stops, reading the description before going forwards.

“ _ For when your brain is putting you under immense pressure, remember that diamonds are made under extreme force. You will come out on the other side more beautiful than ever.”  _

Michael rereads the words multiple times, etching them deeply into his brain. He feels like it’s been written just for him, like Calum is speaking to him directly when he wrote those words. He hits shuffle, letting the first notes of a song he doesn’t quite know wash over him. He still feels overwhelmed, that he’s annoying Calum endlessly with his emotions, so he keeps quiet, focusing in on that train of thought just to get the others to fade to the background

“I made this playlist for you, you know?”

Michael is pulled from his thoughts, turning to look at Calum quizzically. He hums a noise of questioning, eyes flickering over Calum’s silhouette is the darkness. 

“I made it for you. For times like this when there are too many thoughts in your head, right?” 

  
Michael blinks, unsure of what to say in response. He knows Calum knows him well enough, that he can read his feelings with just a quick glance, but hearing that Calum thought ahead and was prepared for moments like this makes Michael’s head spin. 

“What?” he finally chokes out, the first word he’s said in far too long. He momentarily thinks that he hasn’t spoken in hours, the last time being ages before they got in the car. His tongue sits heavy in his mouth, more words right there, close enough to fall into the open air, but when he tries, nothing else comes out. 

“I’ve made a few, actually. This one is for when you can’t get your head to shut up.  _ you make me quiet  _ is for when you make me think, like when you bring up some perspective that I never would have thought of if it wasn't for you. There’s one that makes me nostalgic for when we were in school, before all of this happened. I think I might have five or six playlists that all make me think of you,” Calum says, eyes never straying from the road. 

Michael feels like he might burst, solely from the idea that Calum thinks of him so thoroughly, enough to make fucking  _ playlists _ for him depending on his mood. He can’t remember a time where he’s ever felt so deeply loved, so cared for by another human. His heart aches with the sensation and the thought of being a burden to Calum floats out of his head, freeing the space to be a little less loud. 

Michael knows he makes a slightly distressed noise as a response, one that Calum interprets for what it is, based on the smile that graces his face. Calum reaches over and pats Michael’s thigh, lingering for a moment before removing his hand. Michael clings to it, holding on tightly to keep him there, always wanting to keep him as close as possible. Calum fits their fingers together, squeezing once and loosening the grip, a comfortable hold for both of them. 

“You know I’m here with you, right?” Calum asks, flicking his eyes off the road for a moment, just long enough to catch the gleam in Michael’s eyes judging by the way he stops and stares. Michael makes a noise of affirmation in the back of his throat, still not trusting that his voice won’t break the moment he starts talking. He squeezes Calum’s hand again, a confirmation that he gets it, he appreciates Calum. 

They travel further in comfortable silence, punctuated by the songs floating through the speakers. Michael watches out the window as they pass by lakes and forests and buildings, mindlessly watching the scenery as it passes. 

He notices in the silence that the voices in his head are getting quieter, that there are less of them now, the more they drive away from home. Calum’s presence helps him more than words can say, Michael thinks, as he leans back against the seat and tilts his head to the side, watching the way that Calum effortlessly navigates the roads, taking the familiar path. He’s at home, comfortable and at least a little at ease wherever Calum is. 

Michael knows he wouldn’t be here, in whatever sense  _ here _ is, if it wasn’t for Calum holding him, physically and emotionally, to the world. He’s eternally grateful for the way that they’re intertwined, so closely knit that there isn’t a beginning or an end, just  _ calumandmichael,  _ together. As much as the voices yell and scream and tell Michael that he deserves nothing in life, the second that Calum breaks through the walls, Michael is able to see a little more clearly, to hear reality yelling back at him that he’s not alone, he’s never alone. 

Still, there’s so much out there that doesn’t include Calum, especially when Michael doesn’t know how to speak the words aloud, how to tell anyone else what he’s thinking. He walks alone, more often than not, with no compass directing him. But he knows that if he looks up, Calum is the North star, guiding him to wherever it is that he needs to go. 

Michael wishes that he knew the boundaries, knew where he and Calum begin and end. He wants to see the end of the story, where they end up in the future. Michael doesn’t know how to navigate the world without Calum right by his side, but he wishes that he knew how to articulate that to him, to see what Calum’s thoughts on the situation are. They toe the line of friends or more too often, overly domestic and intertwined yet separate beings, existing tangentially enough where they aren’t mirror images of one another. 

“Sometimes the world just seems a little too big, you know?” Michael says suddenly, looking out the window at the trees passing by. He’s struck by his own voice, the way that it feels too loud even though he knows he’s whispering. 

“In what way?” Calum prompts, taking a left turn at the next stop sign. 

For a second, Michael isn’t sure what he means. The world does seem so overwhelmingly big while also so incredibly small, making him feel claustrophobic at some points and terrifyingly insignificant at others. He lets that thought grow, feeling the need to expand on that idea, to spit out words until his brain is less full. 

“Like everything I want in life is lightyears away. I’m getting old, right? I feel like I should be farther along, more successful.” Michael pauses, licking his lips to retain the moisture, knowing now that he started, he won’t be able to stop the words from flowing out of him freely. 

Calum hums noncommittally, urging Michael to get everything off his chest. Michael loves that about Calum; he loves his ability to say so much while still saying nothing at all. He respects it, knowing his personal silences are a cry for help, where Calum’s are a confirmation of reality. 

“I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m supposed to be married with a kid by now, living a life in a house with a white picket fence, all that bullshit. And like, I want that, I mean, I want some of it because what the fuck is a picket fence actually? But I want to be an adult, but I can’t see past the end of this year. No, actually, like I can’t see the end of the month. Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow,” Michael continues, stubborn in his need to get it all off his chest now. 

“People keep asking what I want to do with the rest of my life, what my aspirations are or whatever, and what am I supposed to tell them when I can’t see past the next small bit of time? I literally have no fucking clue what I want to be doing in two months, let alone five years. And in five I’ll be thirty, thirty fucking years old with no clue what path I’m supposed to be on. It just doesn’t really seem fair to me,” Michael spills, clutching at the fabric on the end of his hoodie. 

“I want to have a kid, I want to be in love, I want to get married. I want all of these things but I have no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do to get there. I want an instruction manual; I want someone to hold my hand and lead me in the right direction because I’m fucking lost.” Michael finishes, taking a big sigh to cleanse the air in his lungs. 

Calum squeezes his hand twice, reminding Michael that he’s still there, he’s always right there. He’s a lighthouse, constantly guiding Michael back to shore when the waves threaten to capsize his boat. 

“How can I help you? Do you want advice? Or a distraction? Or do you have more that you want to say? I’ll help you, but I need you to advocate for yourself and tell me what you need.”   
  


Michael stops to think about Calum’s questioning, suddenly realizing how quiet the voices in his mind have gone. It’s like he got rid of them all through his ranting, despite never knowing what they were saying. He’s pleasantly empty, void of the stressors that had been weighing him down throughout the day. 

“I need to know I’m not in this alone,” Michael says, steadily keeping his head down to avoid looking in Calum’s direction, knowing he would lose all his nerve if he saw Calum, saw the look of pity that must be across his face. 

“You’re never alone. I’m right here with you, all the time,” Calum confirms, tightening the hold on Michael’s hand. 

“Even when I’m too much? Too loud? Or too quiet? When I can’t get the damn voices to shut up? When I have absolutely no feelings at all and everything is numb? You’ll be here even then?” Michael frowns, turning to look out the window instead of focusing on the words coming out of his mouth.

Calum releases Michael’s hand and pulls over to the side of the road, putting the car in park the second they’ve come to a full stop. Michael refuses to face him, afraid of what he’s going to see when he turns around. The logical part of his brain tells him that he won’t scare Calum away, not now and not ever, but the anxiety worries that he’s gone too far, sharing too many of the thoughts that had been threatening to destroy his mind. 

“Michael, please look at me,” Calum says quietly, reconnecting their hands tethering them to this moment. 

Michael turns slowly, bashfully looking at Calum in the moonlight. Shadows cover most of his face, but Michael can still make out the determined look in his eyes, the focus and attention in his stare. He shivers under the intensity of it all, overcome with the need to crawl into a hole and hide, but he also knows he could never hide from Calum, even if he tried. 

  
“I promise you, with everything in me, that I will never leave you alone. I will never let you walk through life without me by your side, not unless you tell me to fuck off and go away,” Calum laughs. 

“Never,” Michael shakes his head desperately, too scared at the idea that he would ever be the one to want Calum to leave him alone to even laugh at the joke. He can’t imagine the scenario where that would need to happen, knowing he’s a better person with Calum in his corner. 

“Okay,” Calum continues, “then you have nothing to worry about. Because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else, ever. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and while I’ll never be able to take away your hurt or quiet the voices in your mind, I will always,  _ always _ , do whatever I can to lessen your burden.”

Michael is taken back by the admission, overcome with the feeling of  _ love _ flooding through him to think of anything else. He feels like life can be bearable with Calum’s hand in his, leading him down whatever path they’re going to take. 

“Even with a house with a big backyard and a picket fence and 2.5 kids and 3 dogs? Even if I lose all my money and live in a box? Even if I set something on fire at our wedding and the whole thing is a mess?”

“We’re getting married?” Calum questions, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. Michael flushes, undetectable under the moonlight, but Calum can see through him, can always see exactly what he’s feeling. 

“I’m joking, I would marry you tomorrow if you’d let me. You’re it for me, Mike.” 

Michael doesn’t let himself overthink that statement, not wanting to snowball into something larger, something unnecessary. Instead, with a mind still pleasantly empty of all horrible thoughts, Michael leans over the center console and kisses Calum, solidifying that this is it, this is them, and there’s no going back now. 

He doesn’t know where he’s going and he definitely doesn’t know how he’s getting there, but Michael knows that as long as he has Calum, someday the voices will quiet down for good. And if they don’t, at least he has the best damn distraction in the world. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on Tumblr [lifewasradical](https://lifewasradical.tumblr.com) 💜


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